Here Then Gone

Opening a bale of alfalfa is like opening a box of Cracker Jacks; sometimes there are little treasures between the flakes.  I've found colorful, perfectly pressed wildflowers, dirt clods, and once an unfortunate mouse.  It took me a minute to figure out this find yesterday.  Turns out it was an insect egg case firmly attached to and around an alfalfa stalk.  It was pretty big, about the size of two almonds in the shell, and I have no idea what bug made it, but it was interesting enough to share.

For awhile, I was fighting a losing battle with ants in the kitchen, wiping out long, dark trains on a daily basis, and knocking off stragglers one at a time for what seemed like forever.  And then they were gone and I haven't seen an ant for weeks.

 Turk, the bold breakfast squirrel, hasn't joined the crowd of late, and Stump and her kids have evidently moved on.  I miss them.

The bird populations change with the seasons.  Fall brings the crows, as well as the blackbirds.  The power lines are full to the point of sagging these days.  I don't know where the crows go at night, but the little birds go into the live oak behind the clothesline and their bedtime chatter fills the air.  Woodpeckers are busy jackhammering holes to stuff with acorns.  Titmouses (wouldn't you think it should be titmice?) are making an appearance again, those strange little birds that will go down a tree trunk headfirst.  I keep hoping to find one of those wonderful hanging, woven nests made by the bushtit, but haven't since those several years ago.

I don't know where they come from and I don't know where they go.  I sit back and enjoy the ever-changing wildlife slide show.  They come, and they go.